Irish Roses
by Sagelah
Summary: There never was an Emily Prentiss. Ian and Lauren are happy together and are expecting. Can heartbreak and the obstacles that follow be too much to handle? WARNING MATURE THEMES
1. Stock Still

**A/N This is my first hack at an epic. It's not a happy one, but if you stick with me it will get there!**

The clinic smelt of rubbing alcohol and latex. The women sitting in the waiting room varied in sizes. Some looked about ready to drop, some probably only there for their first checkup. There were couples holding hands and single women flipping through the provided magazines. Lauren walked up to the front desk and leaned against it gently, happy to relieve some of the weight from off of her aching back. She was thirty-two weeks along and already the kid had kicked like his father.

"Name please?" asked the woman behind the counter nicely. Lauren blew a strand of hair out of her sweaty face.

"Lauren Reynolds. I have an appointment for three this afternoon?"

The woman perused the patient list before nodding and offering a smile. "Take a seat why don't you, the doctor will see you shortly."

Lauren thanked her quickly and plopped down in a nearby chair. She placed a hand over her swollen belly and rubbed it affectionately. He'd been so sleepy lately only kicking intermittently. She reached into her purse and pulled out her cell for the hundredth time. She flipped through her contacts and pressed the green button when she reached the contact she'd been looking for. She sighed loudly when it went straight to voicemail. "Ian, this is Lauren...again. I know you don't like me using the cell, but if you'd pick up or if I knew where you _were_ I wouldn't have to keep calling you. I'm at the clinic...just call me back when you get this. You said you'd be here. Okay. I love you. Bye."

She placed the phone back in her purse, removing her current book. Ian had insisted that she take it easy the minute they found out that she was with child. However, his version of "taking it easy" was to practically confine her to the bedroom. If she was tired, her meals were brought to her bed. She was provided with heat pads for her back and Ian had hired a live in nurse. He had taken it so far that one day Declan had come into their bedroom sobbing, asking her if she was dying. Lauren had really let him have it after that and he'd relented some. She was now free to walk around the villa and play with Declan, so long as she promised to not overdo it. She agreed to these terms with a roll of her eyes and a cheeky kiss to her lovers lips.

She rubbed a hand over her belly absentmindedly and she held her book with her other hand. "Lauren?" she heard from the doorway. She looked over the top of her book to see Dr. Klein standing there holding a clipboard. She nodded and placed her book into her bag, not bothering to mark her page. She got up, with a bit of difficulty, and followed the doctor into her room. Dr. Klein was a short woman with dark brown hair and thick rimmed glasses. She was a serious woman, but one who was never shy about sharing a smile.

"Why don't you take off your clothes and put on the robe. You know the drill. The nurse will be by in a bit," she said gesturing to the gown on the bed. Lauren nodded and began the task of undressing. The stretch waistband of her jeans made her cringe, but she continued. She stepped out of them as she was no longer able to properly pull them off. She undid her blouse and unclasped her bra. Pulling on the robe proved to be a challenge and she willed Ian to walk into the room to assist her with the simply task of tying it. She gave up with a huff and hoisted herself onto the table.

She leaned her head back and let her mind wander to what Ian could be doing that would be holding him up. _He_ was the one who had bee reminding her of the appointment for that past two weeks. He'd even gotten Declan involved by making him bring in a bouquet of roses with one less each day as the appointment drew nearer. Today was the day that all three of them would sit and decide his name. Today was the day that they would finish the baby room. Declan had been designated a section of the wall where he was allowed to paint his new brother a mural. Lauren had taken him out shopping for paints a few days ago and the kid hadn't relented ever since.

The clock above the door read 3:15. She knew that the nurse would be in shortly, but couldn't help being slightly offended. Did she really think that it took her _that_ long to undress? She wasn't totally incapable of movement...yet. Just as the thought popped into her head, the door swung open. She looked to it hopeful and couldn't help the look of dejection when she saw that it was only the nurse. "Well then, that's not usually the look I get. I'm coming to show you your _baby_. A grin would suffice," said the nurse in good humor as she sat down beside the table. "Let's get you ready then."

Lauren held up her hand. "I'm waiting on my partner. Sorry," she said, holding her belly reassuringly. The nurse nodded and leaned forward.

"So, picked any names yet?" she asked.

"I'm thinking about David Beckham the second, especially with the way he was last week. Truthfully, I like John...or Michael. I'm a sucker for simple names," Lauren said giddily. It felt nice to have a co-conspirator.

"And what does the fella say?" she replied, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Ian likes Caellum, but lord knows I would never spell it right and I'd probably mispronounce it and that's just gonna screw up the poor kid," Lauren chuckled. "Truthfully, I don't _really_ mind what his name is, I just want to finally meet him!"

"Then let's just do the ultrasound. You can share the good news with Ian later."

"I don't know. I think he'd be pretty upset if he didn't get to see his little face show up on the monitor," Lauren replied laughing.

The nurse rolled her eyes and finally Lauren acquiesced. The woman pulled up the robe and placed a towel into the waistband of her underwear. "It might be a tad cold," she said as warning before squirting the lukewarm jelly on her pregnant belly. Lauren craned her neck to the left to try and get a better look at the screen, not that she could make any sense of the black and white until it was pointed out to her.

The pressure she exerted on the belly as she maneuvered the camera did nothing to help the pressure already being exerted on her bladder. "Is he turned around or something?" Lauren asked after a couple minutes of the nurse twisting the camera on her belly.

"I think so, let me go get Dr. Klein. She might be able to get a better picture, even if he is turned around," she said and promptly walked out of the room.

Lauren rolled her eyes and looked down at her belly. "You're causing problems, you know that? If it wasn't for all that tossing and turning you do I'd be back in my clothes now. Why don't you wake up for a minute and roll on over," she said to her belly.

Dr. Klein walked in a few minutes later sporting her normal serious face. She squirted some more jelly onto her stomach and took up the task of looking for a good picture of Lauren's son. After a few minutes, Dr. Klein turned the monitor off and turned to face Lauren.

"Lauren, I'm so sor-"

Tears sprang to her eyes. She placed both hands on her baby bump protectively, ignoring the feel of the jelly beneath her hands. "He's just rolled over, that's all. He's sleeping," she said with far more conviction than she felt.

"Sometimes these things happen. We can't predict them. I'm truly very sorry dear."

Tears streamed down Lauren's face as she held her stomach closer to her, as if pulling it closer to her heart could restart that of her son's. The door swung open and there was Ian, all smiles and unshaved. "What'd I miss?" he asked happily.

His face turned grim as his eyes fell upon the water-logged ones of his lover. "Love, what's wrong?" he asked, moving to her side instantly. The words caught in her throat and she swallowed in an attempt to clear that large knot that had formed there. She turned her sad eyes to the doctor.

Ian looked around helplessly as his partner continued to fall apart before him. "I'm very sorry, sir," the doctor added before she and the nurse left the room to give the grieving couple space.

"Lauren, you need to speak. Please," he begged, wiping away her tears with the pads of his thumbs. She nodded and looked right into his eyes.

"Ian, he...our son...he's...gone," was all she could get out before she began to cry once more.

Ian stood up and shook his head. "No. You're lying."

"I wish I was!" Lauren wailed, wiping her eyes on the gown she was still sporting. Ian dragged a hand down his face in an attempt to wipe away the tears that had begun to fall from his own eyes. The tension in the room was palpable and Lauren reached for him.

"Please, Ian. Hold me...hold us," she begged in a quiet whisper. He nodded and walked over to her. He climbed up on the table and pulled her back against his chest. Their breathing was erratic and came out in shudders and short bursts. Ian kissed the crown of her head and left his lips there while Lauren clung to the arms encircling her belly.

A soft knock sounded at the door and Dr. Klein walked in. "I know this is a difficult time, but we need to discuss the next steps," she said contritely. Lauren felt nauseous. Five minutes ago she was under the impression she would see her little boy. Now she was stuck with the knowledge that her little boy was gone. This was all happening too fast. She didn't reply to the doctor, allowing Ian to be her words.

"Next steps?" Ian asked gruffly.

"Yes, we need to remove the fetus from the womb. You may choose to wait until you go into labor, Lauren. You may also choose to be induced which we can do today."

"Can we have a moment to talk it over?" Ian asked, but Lauren shook her head. She knew what she wanted, but she knew she couldn't have that.

"He's really, dead...there's no chance that he's alive?" Lauren asked with the small hope she still clung to. Dr. Klein shook her head and apologized once again.

"I want it today. Do it today. Do it now. Get him out. He doesn't need to be in there anymore," she said in a hushed tone. There were no more tears, just a feeling of emptiness. Lauren wanted to _be_ empty. To have a reason to feel this way. Dr. Klein nodded and left the room. She returned with a wheel chair which Lauren climbed into.

"I need you to push for me Lauren, push one more time!" Dr. Klein pleaded. Ian wiped the sweat off her brow as she pushed once more and felt her son leave her body forever. For a moment she waited to hear his small cries before the realization that none would come hit her like a truck.

Dr. Klein handed the stillborn to Lauren, and she held her son to her chest. He had his fathers nose, but her lips. He had a spattering of dark brown hair on the top of his head. Ian wrapped his arms around the both of them as they looked on at their son.

Lauren was complacent the rest of her time in the clinic. She allowed Ian to mop the sweat off her brow with a damp cloth. She moved her limbs to step into her clothes. She allowed herself to be wheeled out in a wheelchair. She allowed herself to be helped into the car. She let Ian do the talking, sign the papers and say goodbye to the people who had just handed her the worst day of her life.

Ian climbed into the drivers side. "Why?" Lauren asked to no one just before he started the engine. He swallowed, but didn't answer her as no response would form. The drive back to the villa was quiet as a result. Fields passed by outside and Lauren rested her cheek against the cool glass of the window. All she wanted to do was climb into bed and never get up again.

Ian helped her out of the car and into the house. Declan would be getting ready for bed now Lauren realized, as the digital clock on the oven read 8:15. She heard him before she saw him, his thudding footsteps could be heard running down the stairs and through the entrance hall.

"Lauren! You're back! Did you and daddy pick a name yet?" he asked, humming with excitement. Lauren couldn't work up the energy to tell Declan the news and shook her head sadly. Ian threw his coat on the hall bench and walked over to his son. He picked Declan up and brought him into the kitchen, allowing Lauren to go upstairs to bed.

She walked through the villa, mindful to avoid the kitchen. The house felt larger than usual, as if it could swallow her whole. Her body ached as she climbed the stairs, but it was easy to ignore. She walked into their bedroom and take note of the large bouquet of red roses sitting in the middle of the bed. She moved them onto the armoire. There was nothing to celebrate today.

She peeled off her clothes and pulled Ian's large house coat around her body. She sat on her side of the bed, hands on her knees. She looked to the hall and could see a light from Declan's room. She sighed and got up to go turn it off, stopping in front of the babies room. Against her better judgement, she walked in.

There were candles on the window ledge, the crib had been built and the walls had been painted a dusty blue. Their first sonogram was framed above the head of the crib. There were stuffed animals at the foot of the bed, a rocking chair in the corner. Declan's mural read: "I love you with all my heart. Sleep well!". He'd painted a firetruck and a few flowers. The was a portrait of Lauren, Ian and Declan on the dresser. The change station was stocked with all the essentials.

Lauren stood stock still in the room meant for her baby. The room he would never get to see. She wrapped arms around her body, empty.

**A/N Want to kill me? Leave a review!**


	2. Wandering

**A/N Alright, here's the second chapter. It's a sad one...obviously. **

Ian had to beg Lauren in order to get her to do something. Two days after losing their son and she was confined to the bed. Since the night when he'd found her in the nursery and had carried her to bed, that was where she'd stayed. No amount of pleading, yelling, crying or loving could coax his catatonic lover from between the sheets. He didn't expect her to be up singing and dancing around the villa, he knew she was severely depressed, just as he was. It was the fact that she refused to talk, yell, cry or love at all. She didn't utter a sound. She had barely slept, instead lying rigidly in the bed. The soothing lullaby of Lauren falling asleep in his arms was yet another comfort he was being robbed of. He was starting to worry that he was going to lose her along with their son.

"Love, please. You need to get up. Shower, do something. _Eat_ something," he said kneeling down at her head on her side of the bed. She responded by blinking slowly and looking right through him, focusing on the wall behind his head. "Love, please. Tomorrow is-"

Lauren cut him off with a chilling look. "Tomorrow is what, Ian? The day I bury my unborn son? Oh wait, he was born...born _dead_. I'll go shower, what does it matter to me how clean I am when my son is _dead_," she spits before swinging her legs out of the bed. Her belly is still large and swollen and Lauren has to support her back as she walks to the bathroom. The knowledge that it's all just dead weight makes her grit her teeth.

The shower starts and Lauren flings her clothes out of the bathroom. Ian sighs heavily and gathers them and tosses them into the laundry. He hunts through her clothes until he comes up with a pair of super stretchy yoga pants and a t-shirt. One thing he knew about Lauren, if she was anything aside from happy, she was in stretchy clothes. He set them on the bed before leaving their room and closing the door quietly.

Declan was at school and he needed to get back to work. He wanted nothing more to climb between the sheets and lie in bed all day with Lauren, but he was not afforded that luxury. He was suddenly overcome with anger towards his partner. How _dare_ she mope around. Hadn't he gone through the very same loss? Was still going through it? Processing it? What gave her the right to lie catatonic in bed all day?

The anger dissipated quickly though, leaving just an aching sadness when he thought of the hollowness her eyes carried. Eyes that could tell you stories without words that were now simply dull and void of emotion. He ran a hand down his face before exiting the villa. Work needs to be done, people need to be paid and evaded. The IRS wasn't going to run itself and Valhalla had standards to live up to. No one could know about the tragedy. No one could know that he had lost a son. No one outside of work even knew he was involved. As far as the government was concerned, Lauren was one of the household staff. No. No one was allowed to know just how deeply he was hurting. As he started the engine of his Jeep he replaced his sad eyes with cold, hard ones hoping that they wouldn't have to stay like that forever.

Lauren started her shower by leaning against the cool wall. She hadn't bothered to fix the temperature and it scalded her skin. Eventually she stood fully underneath the spray. It burned in all the right ways, oozing out the ache in her lower back. It eased the stress in her shoulders caused from being in bed for too long. It seemed to fill up her swollen belly and she swooped her hand over it as the water ran off of it. She washed her hair, her body and did her best to cleanse her mind some. She found herself not knowing what to do. She didn't want to get out of the shower. No, that would only lead her back to the cool reality her world. She wanted to stay in the hot water forever.

Her body was having trouble standing and so she sat. She tipped her head down and let the water hit the back of her neck. She closed her arms over her belly and rocked back and forth. Back and forth. She repeated "I'm sorry" like a mantra. She clung to the words as if they could bring back her baby boy. The voice in the back of her mind spewed nasty thoughts. Thoughts about the things she would never get to have, the firsts she would never be there to see. She bit down on her lip so hard she drew blood. "Shit," she muttered. She was shocked at the way her own voice sounded to her ears. It sounded hollow...like she was.

The water began to turn icy cold, but still Lauren remained seated. She stayed until her teeth were chattering so badly she felt she would chip a tooth. She reached up and turned off the water, sitting in the steamy room. She opened the door and crawled out as there was nothing for her to grab onto in the shower as a means of pulling herself to her feet. She yanked the towel from off the back of the door with too much force and sent the hook to the ground with a crash. She towel-dried her hair and her body. She didn't wait for the fog on the mirror to clear. She didn't want to know what kind of a wreck she looked like.

Her body ached and her mind was exhausted. She walked out of the bathroom wrapped in her towel, thankful that Ian left out clothes for her. Looking through her drawers and seeing all the pregnancy clothes would have been too much. She pulled on the t-shirt and yoga pants and wrapped the towel turban style around her sopping wet hair. She went to crawl back in bed but decided against it as it would only upset Ian. She didn't have enough energy to fight with him.

Instead she walked out and decided to take a stroll around the villa. It was so eerily quiet with Declan at school, Ian at work and most of the house staff either on break or gone home. She made herself a light salad for lunch, but could barely stay interested enough to finish half of it. The house creaked and howled, at least that's what it sounded like to her ears. It was as if the house was mourning along with her.

The living room offered her the comfort of the couch and she lay down, propping her neck against some of the throw pillows. She pulled the blanket down hoping to get in a nap, but sleep was evasive. Each time she closed her eyes she saw Dr. Klein. She heard that bad news. She saw her tiny little boy with the perfect combination of features from both her and Ian. There were also hopeful images, images that were cruel. Projections of a toddler running along beside a taller Declan. Ian's laugh ringing out as their son toppled over only to get right back up again, eager to continue playing with his big brother.

She clenched her eyes to stop the invading images. To stop the pain that was surrounding her heart with a vice grip. She got up off the couch as quickly as she could manage and made it back up. No one would know she had even been in the room. No one would know of the thoughts running through her head.

She spent the rest of the afternoon floating from room to room, not truly taking in her surroundings. It always seemed to take her by surprise when she walked into another room. Declan's bedroom was a mess so she made up his bed and placed his favorite stuffed rabbit on his pillow. She tidied the clutter in her room. She vacuumed Ian's study. She did one, two, three loads of laundry. The house seemed to shine. Now if only she could make herself feel like new again.

As she delivered the laundry to it's respective owners she stopped in front of the nursery. The door was ajar, telling her someone had been in recently. To her knowledge, Ian and herself had been the last ones in. She wished she could board it up and close it off. Instead she put the laundry basket down and walked inside. She flicked on the light and stared at the little crib. Stared at the mobile hanging above it. She was on her knees and sobbing before she could stop herself.

Full body shaking cries left her body, making new wounds she would later have to heal. She cried until she couldn't make anymore noise and still the tears didn't leave her be. _Why me?_

Two little arms encircled her from behind. She turned to Declan, worry and fear etched into his delicate features. "Lauren?" he asked tentatively. He used the full of his hand to wipe away some of her tears.

"Yeah, baby?" she replied, choking on her words.

"I know you're sad, but I still love you and so does daddy. Do you still love us too?" he asked quietly. His eyes looked to the ground and she used the tip of her finger to pull his chin back up.

"I will always love you," she replied firmly, a forced smile making it's way onto her features.

Declan nodded and threw himself into her arms. Her hugged hard and buried his face in her neck. She lifted him up and brought them both to the rocking chair. She rocked them back and forth. Back and forth. She continued to cry, only silently. Declan played with her hair, twirling it around his fingers. He hummed a simple five note melody that Lauren found humming with him. There the two of them fell asleep.

It was dark when Ian finally returned. He'd taken a few extra detours on his drive back to the villa, afraid to confront what may or may not be waiting at home for him. Tomorrow the three of them were going to the funeral. He'd signed the papers, payed for the little coffin and arranged to have him buried under a willow tree at the top of a hill. Some small part of his brain had told him that his son would have liked to be able to see everything around him, so he'd chosen that spot.

Most of the lights were out, the main floor coated in darkness. The upstairs had a few lights shining, one of them from his shared bedroom. He heard the bathroom fan going and ran up the stairs as fast as his feet could carry him, images of Lauren lying still in the shower flashing before his eyes. When he got there he was pleased to see that it had been an accident that the fan was left running. Lauren wasn't in bed though so he left in search of her. Declan wasn't in bed either and he started to panic once again. He called out for her. Called for Declan. He received no answer from either.

The light from the nursery glowed under the door and he opened it slowly. His heart swelled when he took in the two people he loved most in the world wrapped around one another in the rocking chair. He stood there for an immeasurable amount of time, simply watching them. Lauren's face seemed so peaceful in sleep. Declan looked so comfortable curled up in her lap, his head resting on her shoulder. He walked in a went to pick Declan up to bring him to bed, but his son held tighter to Lauren.

"No daddy. I have to stay here," he said, still half asleep.

"Come on son, let's get you into your bed," Ian tried, reaching his arms underneath his son. Declan put up a struggle before allowing himself to be hoisted into his fathers arms where he fell back asleep instantly. He placed his son in bed, not bothering to remove his clothes. He pulled the blanket up to his chin and placed his rabbit beside his head. He took in the sleeping shape of his son, kissed his forehead and made his way back to Lauren.

She was still miraculously sleeping when he returned, although with her lack of sleep as of late it wasn't all that surprising. He lifted her into his arms as well, carrying her bridal style to their bed. He placed her and she pulled him down with her. "Kiss me," she said in sleep and Ian complied.

Her lips were soft, unmoving against his. He kissed her once more, feeling the same rush it never failed to give him, before tucking her in. He striped down to his boxers and climbed in behind her. The alarm set, Ian spooned his lover, their hands joining over her belly.

The alarm went off all too early and Ian rolled over to shut it up. 7:15 AM. Time to get up and have breakfast. Time to get Declan up and ready in his little black tux. His clothes had been dry cleaned and were hanging on the inside of his closet door. Lauren's were hanging on the bathroom door. He got out of bed as quietly as he could manage, not wanting to disturb her as she was getting some much needed rest.

He crept towards Declan's room and opened and closed the door behind him. "Hey bud, time to wake up," Ian coaxed softly. Declan surprised him by sitting up in bed, wide awake.

"Is it time to go yet?" he asked his father who shook his head.

"Not yet. It's time for breakfast, and we're going to be quiet so we don't wake Lauren," Ian warned his son. Declan nodded and climbed climbed out of bed. He walked right past his father and made his way to the stairs, making a show of tip-toeing down each one. Ian rolled his eyes and followed him into the kitchen.

Omelets were served with orange juice. Declan ate his serving plus that of his father's. Ian's stomach and too jumpy to really have an appetite. Not to mention that if he _did_ eat something, he was worried he wouldn't be able to keep it down.

Lauren walked into the kitchen half an hour later, fully dressed and hair in a low bun. Ian didn't make a move towards her out of fear. Whether Lauren knew it or not she was visibly shaking. The coffee pot teetered in her hand as she poured it into her usual mug. As she tucked a stray hair behind her hear her fingers seemed to convulse. Ian didn't touch her for fear she'd shatter.

An hour later the three of them were on the road. The morning was foggy and cold, reflecting what the two adults were currently feeling on the inside. Each time the car went over a pothole. Lauren clutched her belly protectively. Ian refused to turn and look at her as his own composure was slowly slipping. He made quick glances in the rearview to his son, who seemed content to stare out at the weather as they whizzed past farms.

The gates at the entrance of the cemetery closed behind them and Lauren felt her last nit of hope and happiness close off inside of her. They climbed out and walked to the site in silence. Lauren forced herself to look straight ahead of her and not at the ground, the funeral was beginning.

**A/N *Hides*... wanna leave me a review? **


	3. Lost

**A/N This was originally longer, but it was too long so I've split it here at just over 2000 words since it seemed an appripriate place to end it. There is more coming soon I promise!**

"Let us bow our heads to pray..." the priest began. Lauren kept her head level as an act of defiance. She wasn't going to bow her head in prayer, a prayer that God would supposedly hear. She was angry with God, furious with his intangibility, his lack of substance. She wanted someone to yell at, to demand answers from. She was mad because she really wanted to throw her shoe in his holy face and that seemed to prove an impossibility.

The fog had crept up the hill and was attempting to burrow itself in their bones. Lauren noticed Ian pulling his coat around his body protectively, noticed Declan cling to his father's leg for both support and warmth. Lauren let her coat remain open, welcoming the cold chill that would undoubtedly result in some form of sickness. _The worse the better,_ she thought to herself. She had such little motivation to pull herself out of bed already, if she had an excuse not too that would be best. She got her wish quickly as the damp Irish morning began to soak through her turtle neck. Her hair began to curl out of it's proper bun and strands became plastered to her forehead. Annoyances that would have driven her mad once before now seemed trivial. What was some frizzy, damp hair in comparison to her son going into the ground?

The casket Ian had chosen was lovely, if that was an appropriate thing to call a tiny coffin. Deep green like the countryside, gold trim. The dug out was so small that lying flat, Lauren would be longer than it. She inhaled deeply, wanting to commit this moment to memory despite its sadness. It was this kind of damp morning that Lauren had always loved the most. The kind of morning when she would wake before Ian and open their bedroom window a crack, allowing the cool air to chill the sheets. Allowing Lauren to crawl back into the safety and warmth of his arms and once he'd fully awoken she'd make him breakfast. Cheese omelet for the older man, scrambled eggs for the younger one. And if they still had time, the three of them would walk the ground swathed in their comfiest sweaters, simply admiring their little slice of Ireland. _You would have loved Ireland_, she thought as she tilted her head to the skies. _My little angel_.

Lauren stuffed her hands in her pockets to hide the trembling. The cold was starting to get the better of her, but she was stubborn and refused to comfort herself in the slightest way. Or perhaps she hid them to avoid the possibility of Ian reaching out for her, which he seemed inclined to do. The father figure was doing his best to hide trembling of his own and finding it difficult with his first son clinging to him so tightly.

Against the satin lining that encased her hands, she placed her palms on her swollen stomach. It was empty now, hollow. Her bones felt hollow. Her life was hollow. There was nothing to live for anymore. _Was there ever?_ she thought morbidly to herself.

"Lauren?" whispered Declan from right next to her. She chastised herself instantly for her previous thought. Of course there was something to live for. The little blonde angel she had grown to love so much. He shoved his small, cold hand into her pocket and clung to her fingers. Lauren looked straight ahead. The boy she had adopted as her own as soon as Ian had asked. The life they lead so dangerous to his safety, but they carried on. Had they no shame, no concern for his well being? They should have sent him away a long time ago. Sent him somewhere safe where the horror of their jobs couldn't touch a hair on his head.

"The father has asked to say a piece. Ian?" sounded the priest. Lauren's eyes snapped to her lovers. His eyes were red and rimmed with tears that were about to fall. He nodded and offered a polite, albeit tight, smile towards the priest. He didn't move, there weren't enough people there to warrant going to stand in front. He wiped his hands on his pants, a nervous habit Lauren duly noted. He steeled his resolve and bent down to Declan. The boy's hand was still wrapped around Lauren's and he squeezed her fingers tighter. He spoke directly to him. His son looked to him with confusion. "Daddy?"

"Do you know where we go when we die?" asked Ian slowly. Declan nodded.

"We go to heaven."

Ian smiled sadly. "Very good. Do you know why we go to heaven?" asked Ian once more.

Declan took a moment to mull it over. He leaned his head against Lauren. She rubbed her thumb back and forth against his small knuckles, but made no other move. The warmth from him began to seep into her bones and she found her muscles relaxing against her will.

"We go because we're sick and old," was the five year olds response. Seemingly proud he nodded his head before he stopped and looked deep into his fathers eyes. Tears began to form as the realization hit him. "But he was just a baby!"

The tears that Ian had been holding at bay spilled over as his son wrapped his arms around his neck. Ian held the small boy to his chest. "Why did he die if he was so little? It's not fair!" cried Declan. Ian did his best to soothe his son, now in hysterics. Lauren didn't know whether she wanted to thank or smack Ian for explaining it to him. Part of her wished that he could stay in the dark for as long as possible. Part of her knew that the more he understood, the better. She thought of asking God for guidance before a grimace graced her features. There would be no talking to God today.

"It's never fair, but there is a reason. Sometimes, God needs an angel. He needs an angel so pure and good that he can't make one himself. Sometimes this angel is so important that He needs to take him early," explained Ian, his voice thick.

He stood with Declan in his arms, the boy crying inconsolably. "I believe my son, your brother, is an angel. To the little boy I never got to meet, I hope you are smiling down on us. I hope you know how much we will always love you."

The few house guests in attendance dabbed at their eyes and murmured their agreement. The priest himself looked a little misty eyes. The only dry eyes belonged to Lauren. Her hands were balled into to tight fists. She didn't know whether she wanted to hug or kill her partner. Everything about today was pulling her in two. She wanted to believe that her son was in a better place, a place of endless sunshine and happiness. She also knew that in order to believe in that she needed to have faith, and perhaps even some faith in the words Ian had spoken. She didn't know if she had it in her. Anger and hope were waging a war from deep within.

The staff from the cemetery set into action and began the process of lowering the tiny green coffin deep into the ground. It was now that Lauren began to cry. Silent tears flowed like a river down her chilled cheeks. She made no attempt to stifle the flow, simply accepting her truth. The coffin moved torturously slowly into the ground, as if this was a designed torture. She knew that she could be captured, tortured and have unspeakable things done to her and still nothing would be as worse as this moment. She reached for Ian who took her hand willingly. Declan's cries suddenly stopped. "Declan?" asked Lauren quietly.

"What are they doing?" he asked, his eyes darting between the disappearing coffin and his parents in a panic.

"They're burying him," hushed Ian against his sons hair. The moments that followed no one were prepared for. Declan wormed his way out of his fathers hold and fell to the ground with a loud thud. He bit his lip in pain, but was out of reach before either adult could console him. He sprinted the short distance to where the priest stood.

"Can't I see him again though?" he begged him. He clung to the front of his robes with both hands, pulling the him forward. "I will be able to, right?"

The priest crouched down to the boy's small height. He ran a gentle hand over his damp hair and spoke softly and gently, a voice filled with years of solemn practice. "No, because he has left this earth to be with God now. He is happier now," he said with a sad and kind smile.

Declan shook his head and a few salty tears flung their way out violently. "No, he's right there!" he argued, pointing a small finger towards the green coffin. The priest took a hold of his hand and held it in his own, rough and calloused.

"He's there yes, but his soul is in heaven. It's his soul that made him your brother," he soothed in the same tone as before. Declan shook his head, his damp blonde hair flying madly.

"If he goes in the ground so do I!" wailed Declan. Ian rushed to his sons side and held tight to him for the boy looked like he was going to jump into the dug out after the coffin. As Declan cried he held his son tighter, silently begging Lauren to move, or talk. "I'm his big brother daddy! I'm his big brother and you said I was going to have to keep him safe so why is he dead then?"

Lauren stirred, her hand clenched tighter in her coat pocket, but she made no outward movements. The staff surrounding the grave sight cast their glances downward, upon the dew covered Irish hillside. At anything, but the sweet sobbing boy and his father.

"Lauren, please," Ian begged over choked words.

"I can't Ian," she whispered. "I can't because I don't have anything to say to him. He's right."

"What do you mean, he's right! That's our son for God's sake, _this_ is our son!" he yelled, tired of her passive behavior. She was mourning, she was upset, but they all were and Ian wanted to shake her out of this stupor. Declan needed their attention. Declan was _still here_.

Lauren looked at the scene before her. A sobbing five year old, struggling to climb in after his brother. A distraught father, confused and without his usual wits about him. This was the first time she had ever seen him this vulnerable, the first time she had seen him this undone in her presence. "Lauren, I loved him, what did I do wrong?" asked Declan, his voice barely above a whisper. This got Lauren moving.

"Oh, baby no," she said. She walked slowly towards him, pulling her hands out of her pockets. The cold air bit them and she couldn't have cared less. She kneeled into the damp dirt, mud ruining her clothing, again she couldn't care less. She reached her arms out and Declan crawled into them willingly.

"_Oh Danny boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling,_" Lauren began, singing the Irish tune against his hair as softly as she could. This was a song for only him. "_From glen to glen, and down the mountain side. The summer's gone, and all the roses falling. 'Tis you, 'tis you must go and I must bide._"

Ian wiped a rough hand across his face in an attempt to dry the tears. He knelt down with the two people he loved most and wrapped his arms around them. He joined in the song, just as softly and as his baritone met with his lovers alto, Declan's trembling began to lessen.

"_But come ye back, when summer's in the meadow. Or when the valley's hushed and white with snow. 'Tis I'll be here in sunshine or in shadow. Oh Danny boy, oh Danny boy I love you so._"

Declan looked into Lauren's deep brown eyes and saw the tears he had heard in her voice. He placed his hands on either side of her face, as she had done to him many a time when he was sad, and ran the pads of his thumbs underneath her eyes, catching the tears as they fell. He looked with awe at the hot water as it began to slide down towards his wrist. He repeated the action as new tears fell. Again and again and again. "_But when he comes, and all the flowers are dying, if I am dead, as dead I well may be._"

Declan looked up from his task, there was no more singing, but he knew the song well and filled his childish voice with song. "_You'll come and find the place where I am lying, and kneel and say an Ave there for me_."

Lauren felt a smile just behind her lips, but couldn't force it out. Once again she began to sing, this time with her forehead pressed against Declans. The dew from the morning made them slick, but neither party involved seem to care or take too much notice to anything other than the song.

"_And I shall hear, tho' soft you tread above me, and all my grave will warm and sweeter be. For you will ben and tell me that you love me, and I shall sleep in peace until you come to me."_

__**Review? Maybe? Hate me? Maybe? CALL ME MAYBE. Too soon for inappropriate jokes? Sorry...**


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